What day was it.
It was Sunday, the Sunday following the Saturday where we got together in a restaurant across the street from the cemetary to discuss what needed to be done in the event of a (theoretical only) death in the family (never hurts to be prepared) and who wanted Viking funerals (Gamma, me) and who would settle for something more realistic and legal, who to contact, etc. followed by a trip to a doctor due to chest pains and a dislike of irony (dying after the death meeting) who ordered further tests in the hospital that found nothing leading to a diagnosis of probably carrying the refrigerator was a bad idea.
It was Sunday, and latish morning, and Alpha and I went for a walk in the woods, by ponds and the Danube and back to the car with wet feet and a feeling of accomplishment and also a feeling that we had earned lunch at the local wine tavern (Heuriger).
We were the first guests at the Heuriger except for some dudes playing cards and we took a table outside in the sun/shade. I tried to fit myself into the shade. Our food came (I had the large round sandwich, Alpha had the Wildplatte i.e. the wild plate, consisting of game animal products. It was all pretty good. She had a spritzer, I had Sturm, i.e. pre-wine, the cloudy, sweet kind.
We were enjoying sitting there etc when Alpha goes,
“Honey, there,” and gestures at my chest where, when I look down, I see 3 enormous shiny black and yellow wasp family dudes fighting on my shirt pocket.
And I go,
“Oh. Hornets fighting on me.”
Have you ever had hornets fighting on you? It’s fascinating.
I was enthralled, it’s really cool. Shiny ectoskeletons, shiny black yellow patterns, like some athletic device you might have had years ago until it went out of style and disappeared under the bed.
They were kind of distracted by each other trying to kill everyone so I calmly watched them for a while (few seconds) but then their proximity to my heart occurred to me, you know, ‘Man stung in heart by three fat hornets’ and I whisked them away with a napkin. Two flew away immediately, one fell to the bench I was sitting on and *then* flew away.
And that was that. They might be big and scary, but at least they didn’t stick around after I whisked them the first time, like wasps, who are always, “ya whisking me ya think ya gonna whisk me who ya whiskin there fella I’ll whisk ya I’ll show ya whiskin,” etc.
Then we went home.
Now it’s Tuesday all of a sudden.
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What day was it.
Which onea you fuckers
peed on my phone
on the kitchen table last night?
When I picked it up this morning
it swished not swiped
It’s a miracle it still works
I don’t wanna know who it was
Just don’t let it happen again
or I’ll i don’t know what.
not that I’ll forget so quick,
whenever I pick it up to
check likes on Instagram
it smells like betrayal
After showering and before you put your glasses on, when you apply your cologne and are trying to get the bottle pointed in the right direction, you can give the bottle a test spray to see which way to point it or you can hold it real close to your face to try to see where the hole is it squirts out of, just not both at the same time.
So this morning before work I walked down to the store and got some stuff for lunch and on my way back to the office some crows stopped and visited and I gave them some peanuts and went back to the office and ate the stuff I had bought for lunch and worked and then at lunchtime I went to the park and strolled around and found a shady spot under some trees and there was a large box-like wooden construction there that held four beehives, two of them populated and busily at work and I sat and watched the bees, which I love, they’re my favorite insect, always have been, I was fascinated by the bees that lived in my uncle’s wall and I visited him often to listen to them when I was a little boy, but I really fell in love with bees earlier this summer when the lavender by the gate was in full bloom and full of bees and when I came home and opened the gate a cloud of lavender-scented bees enveloped me and brushed my face without stinging me and that’s when I fell in love with bees. Then four crows, crows that didn’t know me yet, as I had not yet fed crows in the park, showed up and I threw them a peanut and then another and after three or four peanuts one had the cojones to try one and then three were competing for the peanuts I threw them while a fourth one watched from further off and I threw them peanuts and watched the bees until I ran out of peanuts then I walked back to the office. On the way a crow, one from before, stopped by and watched me for a while and I watched him and checked all my pockets but I was really out of peanuts so I apologized and walked back to my desk.
Some days you just need bees and crows.
Silver nitrate solution sloshed out of my dipper tank the last time I was making wetplate collodion photographs in my backyard and by the time I noticed I had dripped a trail of photosensitive heavy metal solution down the cellar stairs, across the big room in the cellar into my workshop, which exposure to ultraviolet light was rapidly turning black. What should I do?
Sincerely, Photosensitive Heavy Metal Solution Stainer Dude
Easy peasy. Take some sodium thiosulfate fixer solution, wet a paper towel and use that to wipe it up. Wear gloves, because I think I remember hearing it’s carcinogenic. Works like magic on tiles. Pets and carpet, not so much I figure. Under no circumstances use cyanide fixer, because that contains cyanide and will kill you. And safety goggles, because silver nitrate in the eyes will blind you. And remember this is time-sensitive: you must get it all cleaned up before your wife notices, or she will ask you to finally get all these funky chemicals out of the house and into storage somewhere with better fire insurance.
Man: Why do you call me Mr. Peanuts?
Corvid: If we called you Mr. Peanut we’d be exposing ourselves to civil litigation over trademark violation.
Man: Why not Mr. Sandwich? You eat more of my sandwiches.
Corvid: Peanuts are better for caching, they don’t get soggy. And you can carry three at a time in your beak.
Corvid: At least three. You can carry three easily, more than that, it might lack grace.
Man: I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do you sometimes cache vittles beneath the tires of parked automobiles? Don’t you mind your food getting squished?
Corvid: Ehn, we haven’t figured cars out 100% yet.
Corvid: They make great toilets, though. That much we know.
Walked a different route to the store at lunch today to avoid the crows, because I was just getting salad and salad disappoints them so.